


Control Factor

by Yergink



Series: Colorless [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Amusement Parks, Conversations, Gen, Unethical Experimentation, specifically involving pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25586167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yergink/pseuds/Yergink
Summary: Doctor Achroma takes a break, meets a stranger, and misunderstands some advice.
Relationships: Achroma | Colress & N | Natural Harmonia Gropius
Series: Colorless [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596157
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Control Factor

**Author's Note:**

> Colress doesn't know who N is, so if he were to meet him, he wouldn't recognize him.

Achroma’s frown deepens as he looks down at his screen, then at his notes, then forward into the glass enclosure before him. He makes a sound in frustration, slamming a hand against the desk and rattling the equipment scattered across it.

He runs a hand through his hair in irritation. The numbers are all wrong, and he doesn’t know why. His hand falls when a whimper arises from the Cubchoo in the enclosure, and Achroma takes the opportunity to glare angrily at it. “Don’t give me that. This is your fault,” he accuses, pressing one stern finger against the glass.

In response, the creature cowers away from him. It sneezes loudly in its fear, scattering snow across the floor inside and frosting the glass. The tablet in his hands beeps again, reading the energy output. Achroma scowls down at it.

He lets the tablet drop to the table. He needs a break. Desperately. An hour or two to reevaluate before another attempt.

The Cubchoo makes another small sound but he deliberately ignores it, slipping off his lab coat and draping it over his seat. The lights in the enclosure dim as he steps away from the console, and he flicks the rest of them off as he exits the room.

No one bothers him as he strides down the cold metal hallways, emerging from the personal hideaway that his lab has become. He spends very little time outside of it, in no small part due to the simple disinterest of interacting with both Ghetsis and the armada of gullible fools he’s employed.

He steps out onto the mostly empty deck of the Plasma Frigate, the name for Neo Team Plasma’s newly acquired headquarters. Ghetsis personally commissioned it not long ago, although Achroma doesn’t know from where. In fact, for all the time he’s known him, Ghetsis always seemed to have a rather steady supply of funds despite not having an actual job. While he’s certainly curious about it, Achroma had decided long ago that it wasn’t his business, and as long as it worked to his benefit, it would continue not to be so.

There’s only one grunt standing guard on the deck, and she appears to be nodding off at her station by the slipway. She startles awake at the sound of his footsteps against the metal flooring, and snaps sloppily to attention.

“Doctor Achroma, sir!” She salutes clumsily.

He waves her down. “No need for that.” It’s sort of funny how seriously they take this whole operation. With their salutes and their attention and their fascination with titles. As if these silly fanatics are anything approximating a real military organization. He supposes that’s mostly due to Ghetsis’ own views, though. He certainly takes it just as seriously, and Achroma can’t help but let out a breathless laugh as he thinks about it.

That must have seemed rather strange to the grunt, he realizes, because she stares at him, confused, clearly still a bit drowsy. Achroma quickly composes himself and gestures for her to step aside.

“If Ghetsis asks, I’ll be back in an hour,” he tells her and moves down the slipway to the landing dock below.

The ship is docked on the edge of Nimbasa City, hidden amongst the forest and just out of sight. By the time Achroma reaches the checkpoint leading in, his shoes are all muddy from the trek. He manages to pull a polite smile for the woman behind the counter before he heads inside.

As usual, Nimbasa is loud, vibrant, and toneless, like a child playing the recorder. Achroma is harshly reminded of why he doesn’t spend much time here. The bustle of it has always felt exaggerated to him, and it lacked the true big city charm places like Castelia had. Regardless, he doesn’t want to wander too far in the hopes of managing to actually return to the ship within the hour, so he resigns himself to handling the city’s quirks for the time being.

He meanders through the streets a bit, trying to find somewhere quaint or quiet, but Nimbasa in general sorely lacked in that department. He could hear the blast of intercoms and cheers from one of the sports stadiums and steered away.

Eventually, he finds a shady spot in a patch of trees. It’s not much, but there’s a bench, and it’s at least somewhat removed from the chaos of the rest of the city. He breathes a sigh as he plants himself down onto the bench, resting his head against the backrest. From here, he can just see the amusement park, the carts at the top of the Ferris wheel spinning above the treeline.

He watches the ride move and tries to figure out where he’s been going wrong.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asks suddenly. Achroma lifts his head, startled from his thoughts.

There is a young man standing in front of him, seemingly having come out of nowhere, as Achroma certainly hadn’t heard him approach even in the relative quiet of the park. He has a soft face, bright eyes, and long hair that sticks out from under a worn cap.

Certainly odd, but Achroma supposes that you could apply such a label to just about anyone under the right circumstances. He just shifts to the right and gestures for the stranger to go ahead. The young man nods in thanks and takes a seat.

The pair sit there, staring out into the trees and the amusement park rides that tower out from behind then. The stranger is the one to break the silence, saying, “You seem troubled.”

The sincerity of it catches Achroma off guard. “Oh, I didn’t realize I was dealing with a psychic,” he says sharply, unable to keep the bite from his tone.

Apparently oblivious to the doctor’s sarcasm, the young man shakes his head. “It’s nothing like that. I just have good intuition.”

From beyond the trees, the Ferris wheel begins to shift again, the gaudy park music blaring and cutting through the ambiance of the city. The stranger has tilted his face towards him, looking expectant. Achroma sighs. “As a matter of fact,” he starts, “I have been having...problems. As of late. Although, I don’t think ‘troubled’ is the correct term. I am more frustrated than anything.”

The stranger nods knowingly. “I see.”

“You must understand,” Achroma continues, being unable to stop now that he’s started. “I’m a scientist. It’s the nature of the craft to find yourself stuck on occasion. However, recently, I have simply been unable to shake off the feeling that I’m missing something very important in my research.”

As he speaks, he finds himself unsure as to why he is relaying his personal struggles to a complete stranger. There’s just something almost...comforting about the young man’s presence. He’d almost call it an aura, although that wouldn’t be scientific. It must just be the stranger’s charisma, or perhaps that caring tone and the genuine way in which he seems to be listening, like this young man well and truly cares to hear about Achroma’s struggles.

“That sounds frustrating,” the stranger sympathizes. “Is that why you’ve come out here? To think about it?”

Achroma laughs mirthlessly. “That was the thought. Although, Nimbasa isn’t exactly the best place for peace and quiet.” He waves a hand through the air as if to gesture to the music and its toneless nature.

“I suppose that’s true. Though, I like coming here anyway.” The man pauses, seeming to ponder for a moment. “I like the Ferris wheel a lot, mostly. It’s comforting, somehow. Stable.”

Achroma doesn’t know a damn thing about stability, but he nods and makes a sound in agreement anyway. It seems like the least he can do in return for this stranger lending an understanding ear to his problems. They fall into silence after that, long enough for it to start getting awkward. Just as Achroma starts pondering on the best way to exit the situation without seeming rude, there is a rustle in the bushes to the left of the bench.

He turns just quick enough to see a small mostly black shape dart out of the bushes and tumble into the open. The stranger perks up a bit, curling his hands around the seat of the bench and sitting up. “Oh, an Emolga.”

Achroma watches as the creature looks towards them, ears twitching. Its head turns to the stranger, and in a burst of chatter, it launches itself at him. For a moment, Achroma thinks it’s about to attack, but when he turns his head in alarm, he finds that the pokemon is simply sitting in the other man’s lap, rubbing its face against his chest. The man laughs, cooing to the creature and petting its ears.

“Do you keep pokemon?” the stranger asks bemusedly, not even bothering to look at the doctor with how apparently enraptured he is by the creature currently making a home on his lap. Achroma takes a moment to try and figure out why it sounds like such a loaded question.

“I do,” he says finally. “They are the subject of my research, after all.”

And then, it is with a start that he comes to the realization that this stranger might know who he is. The man hadn’t made any indication of it so far, but upon having mentioned the topic of his research, he thinks the chance that this stranger is fully aware of the doctor’s identity must be very high.

However, if he _does_ know who Achroma is, he certainly makes little sign of it. He just keeps stroking the fur along the Emolga’s back with a small hum. The pokemon makes a sound of content, curling into a ball on the man’s lap.

Achroma finds himself surprised at the amount of trust this wild pokemon has placed in this odd young man. Although, perhaps it too could feel the comforting presence that seemed to waft off him.

“I love pokemon,” the stranger says. “They have so much to teach us. It’s admirable that you’ve devoted your life to studying them.”

“There is…plenty to learn,” Achroma says warily.

Abruptly, the stranger lifts his head to meet his gaze, which Achroma does calmly, despite the discomfort that shifts in his stomach under the stare.

“You should listen to them more,” the man says, very serious. “They’ll tell you what you want to know. You only have to ask.”

Achroma swallows uncomfortably as the harsh stare lingers. But after a blink, the man is back to doting on the Emolga, soft and unassuming. “So what is it that’s gotten you so stuck?” he asks, and somehow it doesn’t feel like prying. Achroma feels jolted by the whiplash of the stranger’s tone, but he can’t help but take the opportunity to talk about his research.

“Well, it’s--” he pauses. Right, he has to be careful here. It’s one thing to discuss his experiments with Ghetsis, who couldn’t give less of a damn about what Achroma is doing as long as it provides results. It’s another thing to discuss his procedures with the general public, where it’s too common for things like empathy to get in the way of scientific discovery.

“I’m looking into training methods,” he settles on smoothly. “The best way to increase a pokemon’s power output.”

Something about what he says seems to put the stranger off, and he frowns lightly, his movements stilling. “Ah, battles. People seem too caught up in those, in my opinion.”

Achroma hadn’t asked for the man’s opinion, but he doesn’t say that.

The stranger keeps talking, “Although, I guess there is something special about them. They are able bring out a pokemon’s strength, in a way.”

Pretending to be only mildly interested, Achroma replies, “Oh?”

The stranger nods, his gaze somewhere off in the middle distance, between the trees and park rides. Achroma thinks he might be remembering something. “They fight on behalf of their trainer,” the young man says. “To protect their pride, their status, even possibly their lives. And that’s when a pokemon is strongest.” He turns to meet Achroma’s gaze once more. “When they’re given a reason to fight.”

“A reason to fight,” Achroma repeats to himself. The stranger blinks a few times then shakes his head, as if coming back to himself. He raises a hand sheepishly and tugs on the brim of his hat, like he’s said something he hadn’t meant to. Achroma makes mental note of that, thinking on his words.

Slowly, a thought dawns on him, and it continues to grow and emerge even after he gives the stranger his farewells and heads back to the Plasma Frigate.

When he enters his lab again, he does not turn the lights on. He approaches the enclosure and puts a hand against the glass. The glow of the console backlights him, casting his shadow into the pen. The pokemon inside scuttles away from him, pressing against the far wall.

“I think,” Achroma says to no one. “I think I know what I need to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this took way too long to finish and I don't know if I'm all that happy with it, but I figure since I've been sitting on this draft for a month, I might as well make an effort to finish it.
> 
> I'll probably revisit this series at a later date, when I have more ideas to work with.  
> [My tumblr](http://yergink.tumblr.com/)


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